TARWOOD 



Tarwood^ 



A RUN WITH THE HEYTHROP 



HE waited not — he was not found — 

 No warning note from eager hound, 

 But echo of the distant horn, 

 From outskirts of the covert borne. 

 Where Jack the Whip in ambush lay, 

 Proclaim'd the fox was gone away. 



Away ! ere yet that blast was blown, 

 The fox had o'er the meadow flown ; 

 Away ! away ! his flight he took. 

 Straight pointing for the Windrush brook ! 



The Miller, when he heard the pack. 

 Stood tiptoe on his loaded sack, 

 He view'd the fox across the flat. 

 And, needless signal, wav'd his hat ; 

 He saw him clear with easy stride 

 The stream by which the mill was plied ; 

 Like phantom fox he seem'd to fly, 

 With speed unearthly flitting by. 



The road that leads to Witney town. 

 He travell'd neither up nor down ; 

 But straight away, like arrow sped 

 From cloth-yard bow, he shot a-head. 



1 Note 39- 



6i 



